


A Demon's Marks

by erinacea



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, Living Together, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erinacea/pseuds/erinacea
Summary: Aziraphale discovers that living with a demon tends to leave its marks.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 139





	A Demon's Marks

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT 2020-12-24: I'm currently updating my older stories. Fixing mistakes, stylistic improvements, etc. For this one, I've added some relevant bits of dialogue. The plot's still the same, but hopefully it's better written. :)
> 
> In the last quarter of 2019, I made the mistake of working on 4 multi-chapter stories in parallel, leading to an uncomfortably long stretch of not finishing anything. (On the upside, that means I have a nice backlog for 2020/21. :)) 
> 
> Anyway, I wanted to post one more story in 2019 and decided that the best way to achieve that would be to start a 5th one. Risky move, that... Thankfully, this one is actually short enough for that plan to work. Enjoy!

When Aziraphale got out of bed in the morning, he stepped on a book, yet again. He suppressed the urge to swear and instead picked up the book lying face down on the floor.  _The Count of Monte Cristo. _ He sighed.  As much as he liked to encourage Crowley's new-found interest in reading, he really wished the demon would pay more attention to how he treated his books when he was done with them. At least the face-down treatment was an improvement over the dog-ears Crowley had previously used to mark his place. 

Aziraphale carefully smoothed out the battered volume's pages before inserting a bookmark, straightening its spine, and placing it on Crowley's bedside cabinet. Similar bookmarks were now distributed over the half a dozen books Crowley had started over the past few weeks. For some reason, Crowley hardly ever continued any book he had started, usually preferring to try something new instead, but maybe this one might prove to be the exception. And if he ever  did decide to continue with a book, he'd find a conveniently placed bookmark to use when he next took a break.

Before leaving the room, Aziraphale glanced back at the bed. As usually, Crowley was still sound asleep, bundled up in piles of duvets, and blissfully unaware of Aziraphale's frustration with having to tidy up after him. Aziraphale always enjoyed watching Crowley sleep, and he allowed himself a moment of indulgence now. Crowley's face never looked this content or peaceful when he was awake, and the sight never failed to warm Aziraphale's heart. Even though Crowley could sleep through an earthquake and was unlikely to wake up even if Aziraphale were to bang pots together while shouting in his ear, Aziraphale took care to close the door quietly, anyway.

After brushing his teeth, Aziraphale replaced his pyjamas with his work-day suit and combed his fingers through his hair. When he glanced down at the washbasin, he immediately spotted the ginger hairs tangled in the drain. He shook his head. Crowley liked to spend time in front of the mirror to style his hair, and in Aziraphale's opinion, the end result was generally worth it, but it sure would be nice if he learned to clean up after himself. After a bit of deliberation, Aziraphale decided to leave this particular mess for Crowley to tidy up himself, though he'd probably have to remind him later.

The living room table still displayed the leftovers from last night's bout of drinking, which was as much Aziraphale's fault as Crowley's. After all, they'd had other priorities when they'd retired to bed. Aziraphale sent the wine bottle and glasses directly to the trash and kitchen sink, respectively, and then also made sure to remove the stains Crowley's glass had left on the table despite the bat-shaped coasters Aziraphale had thoughtfully provided.

On the surface, all of this was no big deal. The tiny miracles required for cleaning hardly cost any energy at all, but it was the principle of the thing. After all, the exact same argument would apply to Crowley. The strange thing was that Aziraphale couldn't remember Crowley ever being this messy when they'd spent time together out before he'd moved in. Recently, he'd started to wonder if Crowley might be doing all of this on purpose. Maybe he felt that the guest rules no longer applied to him. Or maybe leaving his marks on the flat was Crowley's way of announcing to the universe that he  _lived_ here now. It was almost like he was staking his claim.

~ * ~ * ~

Aziraphale had just finished reading the  _Telegraph_ and turned back to the crossword section when a pair of strong arms encircled him from behind, making him jump. Crowley could move with deceptive quiet when he wanted to.

‘Morning, babe.’ Crowley pressed a kiss onto the top of Aziraphale's head and then nuzzled the back of his neck. This close, his spicy scent filled Aziraphale's nostrils.

Putting down the paper, Aziraphale turned to look over his shoulder and smiled. As always, his heartbeat quickened at the sight of Crowley with tousled hair and in a loosely tied dressing gown.  ‘ Good morning, handsome.’ Puckering his lips, he fluttered his lashes in an exaggerated manner.

‘Greedy...’ Crowley chuckled but obligingly leant in for a good-morning kiss. Aziraphale twisted in his chair, wrapped his arms around Crowley's neck and eagerly kissed him back.

Eventually, Crowley straightened up again and, groaning, stretched his arms and shoulders. Aziraphale followed suit and turned to face the demon. This might not be the best moment, but Crowley was clearly in a good mood. ‘Um, listen. I know we've talked about this before, but I'd really appreciate it if you tidied up after yourself.’

Crowley furrowed his brows, either genuinely puzzled or pretending to be. 

‘The books, you know?’ Aziraphale raised his eyebrows meaningfully. ‘Hair clumps in the basin. Glass stains.’

Crowley pulled a face. ‘Worth it, though, right? You don't regret inviting me in, do you?’

‘Of course I don't.’ Aziraphale took hold of Crowley's hand and squeezed it. ‘You know I love having you around. I simply wish you'd put in a little more effort.’

At length, Crowley sighed. ‘Okay, fine. I'll try to remember. Okay?’

Not exactly a promise, but Aziraphale hadn't expected one, either. With Crowley, this was as much as he was going to get right now. ‘Thank you, love.’ He smiled, thereby signalling that the uncomfortable part of the conversation was over. ‘Have you had breakfast yet?’

‘Before greeting you?’ Crowley quirked a cautious smile. ‘Hardly. What about you?’

Aziraphale shook his head. ‘I was waiting for you to wake up.’

‘You shouldn't have, angel.’ Crowley cupped Aziraphale's cheek and ran his fingertips along the sensitive area behind Aziraphale's ear. ‘You know I just want coffee, anyway.’ 

‘Just coffee, huh?’ Aziraphale raised a challenging eyebrow.

‘Mm-hmm. Just coffee, and you.’ Crowley wrapped his other arm around Aziraphale's lower back, pulling him close, and began trailing a series of light kisses along Aziraphale's jaw.

In Aziraphale's opinion, this was one of the few things worth delaying breakfast for. Sighing in contentment, he closed his eyes and leant into the embrace. He let his palms rest on Crowley's bare chest and then, in turn, started stroking circles across Crowley's right collarbone. Crowley moaned and began to suck and nibble at Aziraphale's neck. Aziraphale didn't even try to hold back the moan wresting itself free from deep within his chest. When he raised an arm to embrace Crowley's neck, however, the demon deftly ducked out of it and danced out of reach. 

‘Nuh-uh.’ Crowley grinned. ‘I think I need that coffee now.’ His eyes were sparkling with mischief.

Aziraphale pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. ‘Don't you Tempt me,  _incubus._ ’ Yet both his smile and the fondness in his voice betrayed his complete lack of rancour.

Crowley merely smirked and sauntered off in direction of the kitchen. Gazing after him, Aziraphale raised a hand and caressed the love bite Crowley's attentions had left. This, too, was another type of mark. And this one, he realized, he didn't mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a comment. You might also want to check out my other (Good Omens) stories, too. :)


End file.
